


The Daily Grind

by Pyrasaur



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dramatic Irony, Gen, Humor, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23811943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrasaur/pseuds/Pyrasaur
Summary: Joe, a lowly dog pound worker, spends another boring day watching the same old dogs (including the loud green one).
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The Daily Grind

Mom was right, Joe decided as he started out the window - he should have been a doctor. But that didn't change the fact that he was sitting behind the front counter of the animal pound, in a swivel chair that didn't swivel anymore, facing the same forms he had been filling out every day for seventeen years. He drummed his fingers on the desktop, and grabbed a sheet from the top of the stack.

 _Requisition for Animal-Related Supplies_ , it coldly informed him.

Well, he couldn't do paperwork without a properly sharp pencil, so he stuck a sleek new 2B into the electric sharpener. _Wrrrrrrrr._ Why did such a boring little pound need so many papers, anyway? Joe had been watching over the same handful of flea-bitten mongrels for what seemed like months: the brownish mutt, the twitchy terrier, the weird green dog that wouldn't stop shrieking about Mexican food, and the sleepy sheepdog. It wasn't like they _did_ anything that would need a form, never mind one with an official-looking header and three places for supervisors to sign. Sometimes Joe wondered if anyone looked at his forms at all.

"Ah like mah tacos wit looooots o' ketchup!" came the green dog's tinny bark from down the hall.

Same as usual. The pencil still wasn't quite pointed right, it was jagged at the end and it'd only catch on the paper, so back into the sharpener it went. _Wrrrrrrrr. Wrrrrrrr. Wrr-wrrrrrr-wrrrrrrr._

The front door creaked open and slammed shut, and an old man stretched up onto his toes to peer over the counter.

"Excuse me, _human_ ," he said, "I believe you have my dog."

 _Wrrrrrrrrrrrr._ Was it normal for a pencil sharpener to make that funny whine as it slowed down? Maybe Joe could requistion a new one. He put down the pencil, and looked to the old man, who was glaring out from under his bushy eyebrows like Joe was a piece of gum peeled from the bottom of a smelly running shoe.

"Sure," Joe muttered, and reached for the big jangling keyring. At least it was something to do.

The green dog seemed vaguely happy to be out of its cage, but it was a pretty stupid thing and it seemed vaguely happy to be _anywhere_.

"Don't let me find you here again," the old man snapped, and the dog followed him with a bark that sounded remarkably like "yes, master".

They left, door slamming behind them, and Joe sat back down at his counter. One of the mutts gone - that meant he had to fill out a Departure of Animal form. He picked up his pencil, and found that it was pretty short for a new pencil, yes, but it still wasn't _quite_ sharp enough. _Wrrrr-wrrrrr. Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr._  
  
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